


Bleak Expectations

by hikorichan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Community: hermione_smut, F/M, First Dates, Flirting, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5355611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikorichan/pseuds/hikorichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no way this date could go well, not when neither of them wanted to be there. But sometimes, expectations do not meet reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleak Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written for Hermione Smut Fest 2015 over on Livejournal. My prompt was: "He hasn't seen Hermione in years, and he's going to visit her. It's amazing how much our perceptions of a person change in just a few years."
> 
> Thank you to my always lovely and patient betas, AdelaideArcher and MelodyLePetit.

**Bleak Expectations**

 

“Please, Hermione. I promised Draco I’d find the man a date.”

Hermione took a sip of her tea, placing it gently back down on the wooden table of the cafe. “Can’t you find someone else?” 

Ginny’s eyes dropped to her own cup, which was cradled in her hands. “Well, you’re the only single woman I know—” 

“Thanks.” Hermione rolled her eyes. As if _that_ was supposed to make her feel more inclined to accept her friend’s offer. 

“No look, that’s not the only reason! You two are both really smart, and like books and academics and things,” Ginny blustered. 

“That may be true, but he’s Severus Snape! Are you forgetting he was our professor?”

Ginny frowned. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yes, but he hated me, and used to insult me every chance he got. Even if I _was_ interested, which I’m not, why would he want to go out with me?” 

“Because you’re smart and pretty and kind.”

“Which completely explains why I’m the ‘only single woman you know’,” Hermione countered sarcastically. 

“Shut up,” moaned Ginny, stamping her boot-clad foot against the floor. “Look, it’s just one date. Please? I promise, I’ll do something really nice for you.”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head at her friend’s pleading expression.

“Fine, but when it goes horribly wrong and Snape ends up hexing me or storming out of the restaurant, you have to buy me a bottle of wine and listen to me complain for a few hours.”

“Done.”

* * *

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? She’s matured a lot since you last saw her—she’s quite fuckable now—actually, the only reason I think she’s not being banged regularly is that she’s too bloody smart and a little scary, but that’s not a problem for you, is it?” drawled Draco, twirling the melting ice cubes in his tumbler. He lounged in an overstuffed chair, one leg crossed over the other. 

“While I appreciate your estimation of my intelligence, the answer is still no,” replied Severus with narrowed eyes. He held no glass, his hands resting on the ends of the armrests. A dram of whiskey sat forgotten on the ornate table next to his chair.

“Why not? You haven’t been on a date in decades, as far as I can tell. Wouldn’t you like to have a witch to warm your bed?”

Severus snorted. “I am not opposed to the idea of a witch, but Hermione Granger? I was her professor for years, and didn’t exactly give her preferential treatment—or did you forget she’s a Gryffindor? What makes you think she would even be interested?”

“I would have been the last one to admit this before Ginny, but Gryffindors have some positive traits. They’re quite fiery in the sack. Give her a chance, Severus. Just one date, that’s all I ask,” begged Draco, his grey eyes pleading despite his confident pose. “Besides, she already told Ginny yes.”

“Fine. But when I send her crying from the restaurant for being a swotty little know-it-all, you owe me a case of Ogden’s.”

“Done.”

* * *

Severus buttoned his freshly pressed white collared shirt with a grimace slashed across his face. 

What in Merlin’s name had given the boy the idea that he and Hermione Granger of all people could be compatible? She was insolent, challenging, and worst of all, she was best friends with Harry Potter. 

He was half-tempted to skive off the date in preference of a good book, but knew he would never hear the end of it. Besides, he refused to take the coward’s way out; no, if anyone was going to be running away tonight, it would be Hermione Granger. 

He was half-relieved when he arrived at the restaurant to find the witch absent. Perhaps he would luck out and get to have a quiet dinner alone. He ordered a glass of chianti from the severe-looking waitress, only half-looking at the menu as he waited. 

He planned to make things plain from the beginning lest the witch get any ideas about his intentions. Ending up with a mistaken young witch was not on his list of to-do’s for the evening. Getting out of there quickly was. He took another sip of his wine, and waited.

* * *

Hermione was not looking forward to her date with Severus. She had not seen her surly professor in years. The last time was at a celebration sometime after the war, and they’d muttered two words to each other before drifting apart to preferred company. The thought of dating the man had certainly never crossed her mind.

Nevertheless, Hermione took the time to dress herself carefully—no one would be able to say the date had failed because she had dressed like a slob. No, if the date was going to fail, it would certainly be because of Severus Snape. 

She chose a slimming black number and trained her wild hair up into a neat bun, leaving a few curls loose to accentuate her long neck. Makeup, dancing silver earrings, and a pair of black patent heels completed the look. 

She set out looking her best, but expecting the worst. Draco had chosen the restaurant, a very posh Italian bistro in Soho that was set into an old Georgian building with large, double-hung sash windows at the front. 

From the outside she could see it held intimate tables scattered through the small, dimly lit room, with a bar near the back. She supposed it could have been romantic, not that she expected anything that even remotely resembled romance from a man like Severus—not that she _wanted_ it from him either. 

She imagined her sour looking professor pressing a crimson rose into her hand and telling her she was beautiful, and she laughed so hard she had to pause outside the restaurant to catch her breath.

Peering through the window, she spied Severus sitting at a table near the back. A glass of red wine was clutched between his long, pale fingers, his expression bored and resigned. 

Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself. “It’s fine. You can survive a couple hours with Snape. Just be civil, get through dinner, and it will be fine,” she muttered before entering. 

She was greeted by a snotty-looking Muggle hostess, who gave her a pitying look when Hermione explained she was meeting the dark-haired man in the back. 

Thud, thud, thud went her heart as she approached his table. His dark eyes drifted up to meet her, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly downwards. 

_Don’t let him unsettle you,_ Hermione told herself sternly, straightening her shoulders. 

“Hello there… er…” _Crap!_ She didn’t even know what to call him. Professor Snape? Mister Snape? Just Snape? Severus? 

Ugh, she’d said two words and this was already a nightmare. 

Snape stood from the table, peering at her with narrowed eyes. He did not look impressed. Hermione blanched—she didn’t look that bad, did she? No, she’d glanced at herself in the mirror before she left; she definitely looked all right. 

_Strong, Hermione. You don’t need to impress the bastard._

“Good evening, Hermione,” he said smoothly— _all right, I suppose Severus then,_ Hermione thought.

“Is it all right if I sit down?” Hermione asked, sounding much more timid than she felt. 

“I believe that will be necessary if you wish you proceed with this… _date_ ,” Severus drawled, the word ‘date’ dripping with as much mockery as he’d often used with ‘Potter,’ ‘Gryffindor,’ or ‘dunderhead’ during her school years. 

Hermione glared at him, but sat anyway. 

“I admit I was surprised when Ginny told me you agreed to this,” Hermione spoke after settling herself in her seat. _Disappointed, actually._

“On that note, I would like to make something clear before we begin our meal," said Severus, a hint of disdain in his smooth, rumbling voice. "I have absolutely no intention of courting you tonight. I am here as a favour to Draco. So if you were hoping to capture the 'loyal heart of a misunderstood and mysterious spy’—” (he said these words with absolute mocking) “—I am afraid you will be disappointed. You are welcome to leave if you wish."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. _Still a fucking arsehole,_ she thought angrily. She raised herself tall, jutting out her chin defiantly.

"Now look here, Severus," she hissed, a dainty finger pointed daringly towards him, "I refuse to sit here and allow you to mock me. I am also not going to run away, so if your plan was to insult me until I left, you can give up now. I am not some love-starved tart, nor am I the schoolgirl who you could send crying down the hallway by insulting her teeth. We may _both_ be here against our wishes, but we are going to have dinner and we are going to make the best of this. And that doesn't mean sitting in complete silence; small talk will suffice. Then after this ‘date’ is over, I am going to go home to the bottle of wine Ginny promised to me, you can go home to whatever Draco promised you, and we can go back to our lives. Deal?”

Severus was secretly impressed by Hermione’s tirade. It was far too long-winded and Gryffindorish for his liking, of course, but it was surprisingly bold and assertive. She was right: he had expected her to cry and run away like she had as a young girl. This more mature Hermione was obviously more confident. It made Severus think it might be possible to get through the meal without wanting to strangle her—or himself.

"A case of Ogden's finest,” he replied silkily. 

"Excuse me?"

"Draco promised me a case of Ogden's finest."

Hermione snorted. "Apparently I should have asked for more than one bottle of wine. That's an expensive exchange."

"You'll find I don't come cheaply," said Severus with a wicked gleam in his eye. 

"No, I expect you don't," said Hermione with a roll of her eyes. "We have a deal then?"

"We do."

“Excellent. Order me a glass of wine then, and let’s get on with this charade, shall we?”

“As bossy as ever, I see,” Severus said smoothly, even as he raised a hand to summon the waitress. 

“And your greeting this evening completely changed my opinion of you.”

“Yes?” interrupted their waitress, a tall brunette with a button nose and a pompous expression. 

“Red or white?” Severus asked.

“White, please.”

Severus peered down at a small paper menu, and then pointed with a long finger. “She’ll have a glass of the Chardonnay.”

“No, I won’t,” interrupted Hermione. Severus and the waitress stared at her.

“If you bothered to ask, you’d know I don’t like Chardonnay,” said Hermione with a smirk. She held out her hand. 

“I’ll just give you both a minute,” said the waitress, taking a step backwards. 

Hermione raised her hand. “No, wait. I’ll have the Pinot Grigio,” she said to the waitress, then turned to smirk at Severus. “Much better to have an Italian wine at an Italian restaurant, don’t you think?”

Severus frowned. _Still insufferable,_ he thought. He watched her turn her attention to her menu, then exclaim, “Oh, they have spaghetti con le vongole!”

Severus peered at his menu. She was apparently excited over pasta with clams. 

“Have you ever been to Italy, Severus?” she asked. 

Severus sighed. “No.”

“I’ve been a few times with my parents,” replied Hermione, not lifting her eyes from the menu. “It’s quite beautiful. I know most people like Rome or Tuscany, but I really prefer the north and the Amalfi Coast. It’s gorgeous. You should go some time. Have you done much travelling?”

Merlin, the woman was verbose, thought Severus. “Not much, no.”

“No? Why not?” Hermione asked, somewhat surprised. She might think he was a bitter old git, but he was intelligent, and she found the most intelligent people often travelled regularly. 

“Well, it’s rather hard to travel when you have two masters telling you what to do,” hissed Severus, not pleased with her tone.

“I suppose that’s true, but it’s been seven years since the war ended. I’ve been to Australia, Spain, and Romania since then. And I go to France fairly regularly—it’s so close, you don’t even need to take a portkey.”

She watched Severus’s face turn dark, as if her words had planted a thunder cloud firmly over the top of his raven-haired head. 

“I have simply had more important matters to attend to than frolicking away in foreign countries,” he said lowly. 

“Oh, I haven’t been frolicking, Severus. Well, maybe a little—but mostly I did research, and of course I mostly went to Australia to get my parents back.”

“Ah yes, I am surprised you weren’t charged for that little memory alteration,” drawled Severus with a bored scowl.

“Yes, well, as you very well know, one often does desperate things to save the people they love,” she growled, then leaned forward across the table with a sly grin. “And as you also know, being a war hero makes it much easier to get a pardon for past transgressions.”

Severus’s face scrunched into a furrowed scowl. He had nothing to say to her: he knew exactly what she was talking about, and it was true. Not that he would admit it. She was surprisingly confident, this older Hermione Granger.

The witch seemed pleased with herself, grinning smugly as the waitress approached with her glass of wine.  

Severus twirled the stem of his own glass between his fingers, watching her sniff the blonde liquid, take a delicate sip, and roll the wine over her tongue before swallowing. 

“It’s good,” she told the waitress, who filled the rest of her glass. She proceeded to order the damn pasta with clams.

“The ossobucco,” Severus told the waitress. He saw the corner of Hermione’s mouth twitch upward slightly before she hid it behind her wine glass.

“Is something amusing you about my order?” he asked silkily.

“I only thought it suits you,” spoke Hermione thoughtfully, placing her glass back on the table. “An off-cut, much more bone than flesh—“

“Ah, and yet, when you combine me with the right ingredients, you’ll find me quite delicious if you bother to give me taste.” The words were out before he could contain them—a damnable lack of control on his part. He prayed she did not interpret his words as flirtation. Perhaps he should stop drinking—no, the wine was the only thing that was going to get him through the evening. 

Hermione stared at him with a slightly startled expression—wide eyes, and mouth half-open. _No, that could not be flirting. He said straight out he wasn’t going to court me tonight. He must be trying to fuck with me._ She let out a breath. 

“Yes, well… I’m afraid I haven’t had much chance to get to know you, Severus,” she said quietly, thinking she was going to need several more glasses of wine to get through the evening. “I don’t see you out at all. What do you do with your time?”

Severus shrugged—an odd motion, Hermione thought, for such a tense and controlled man. 

“I expect much the same as you. I work. I read. I spend time with friends.”

“Do you see Draco often?”

“Not so often since he’s been with Miss Weasley,”

“Don’t I know it? It’s practically impossible to get time with Ginny—especially since they got engaged,” mused Hermione, feeling herself relax slightly; it was easier to speak about friends. “You know, it took me two months to get her to admit she was dating him. I knew she was seeing someone, but she wouldn’t say whom. When she finally told me, I think she thought I would call her a traitor.”

“And you didn’t?” Severus asked with a raised eyebrow. “I was under the impression most Gryffindors thought the worst of us snakes.”

“Some, maybe, but I think that’s rather prejudiced, don’t you think? It’s no different than people assuming I’m a certain way simply because I was sorted into Gryffindor. People are people, regardless of what house they belonged to at school,” spoke Hermione firmly, feeling the fire of debate torch in her belly. “Draco may not be my type, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t dated any Slytherins before.”

Severus’s eyes went wide for a moment before he was able to control his expression.

Hermione laughed, a light fruity tone that sounded like a suite of joyful violins. Severus found it surprisingly pleasant. 

“Oh, come on, Severus, it’s not so hard to believe, is it?” she chortled.

Severus thought to his own past, of how it was indeed possible for a Slytherin to fall for a Gryffindor. “Perhaps not,” he replied, memories flittering behind a stoic face. 

Distraction came in the form of their dinners, and the thankful refilling of glasses. 

“So, how did Draco tell you about Ginny?” Hermione asked as she twirled her spaghetti into a ring around her fork. 

Severus breathed, thankful for the rerouting of the conversation to more neutral territory. Perhaps this Hermione was more tactful than he anticipated. He let out a breath, feeling himself relax slightly. 

“Ah, well, that is quite a story,” he said with a soft smirk. “It took quite as long to find out as for you…”

* * *

“So we’re in agreement then: Master Utrem is a pompous imbecile,” said Hermione with a grin. Her plate was barren, her third glass of wine cradled in her hand. 

“As surprised as I am to admit I agree with you, yes,” said Severus with a nod. “I didn’t know you followed Potions literature.”

“You don’t know much at all about me, Severus, other than what I did in your classes and maybe a little of what happened during the war.”

Severus considered this. It was true, of course. What he thought he knew about her was based on a girl he remembered from eight years ago, and the six years prior to that. This Hermione Granger, this young woman sitting in front of him, barely resembled her: not even her bushy hair remained, tamed as it was into an enticing bun that left ringlets curling down her pale, curving neck. And what a lovely neck it was, attached to a pretty face, with dark amber eyes that sparkled when she laughed. And behind those eyes was a brain that was as quick and intelligent as he remembered, but controlled by additional years of experience and maturity. 

No, he really had no idea who this Hermione Granger was at all. 

“Earth to Severus.”

“Excuse me?”

“You look like you drifted into space there for a moment.”

Severus was not about to tell her that his thoughts had been orbiting around her person.

“It must be the wine,” he spoke instead. It wasn’t exactly a lie: the wine must be the reason he found himself so unexpectedly enamoured with the young woman across from him.

“It is rather good, isn’t it? Should we get a glass of something to drink with dessert?”

He considered turning it down. He felt a little tipsy, to be honest, but he was having a good time; and Severus Snape did not often have a good time. Especially not with _people._

_Bugger it,_ he thought. “That would be acceptable.”

His words may have been lacklustre, but his dancing black irises and the upward crook of his mouth told Hermione he thought it was a fine idea. She was secretly glad for the chance to extend their evening. The wine was clearly the only reason she and Severus were getting along so well; they hadn’t argued once since their little spat at the beginning. In fact, she found him rather funny and interesting, once he relaxed and opened up a little—nothing like she had expected. She was having a good time, and Hermione did not often have a good time on dates unless they were with books or a documentary and a bucket of ice cream.

As they were waiting for the waitress to bring them their wine and the dessert menus, Hermione considered that she had never actually seen Severus smile before tonight. She wondered what he was doing now, if he was happy. All she knew was that he no longer taught at Hogwarts.

“Tell me, Severus, what do you do for work?” she asked after their glasses had been refilled with a fruity Vin Santo—much better to enjoy with dessert.

“Research, primarily.”

“In Potions?”

“Potions and spells.”

“And is that lucrative?”

“Why, are you planning on finding a way into my vault?” 

Hermione snorted. “That depends on how this evening ends,” she replied coyly. _Shit, are we flirting? Fuck it._ She took another sip of wine as Severus’s lips quirked again into a small grin. He really was rather more handsome when he wasn’t scowling.

“Honestly, I’m curious because I considered going into research myself before accepting a position at the Ministry. My understanding was that unless you had several good patents, it was rather more work than pay.”

“It’s a good thing I have more than several good patents then,” drawled Severus smugly.

“Do you?” Hermione asked, her curiosity peaked. “Tell me about them—I’ll have the tiramisu, please,” she told the waitress, who had approached their table to take their dessert orders. 

“Affogato for me, please, and a coffee.”

“Caffeine this late, Severus, are you planning on staying up all night?”

“Would you give me a reason to?”

The words escaped Severus’s mouth without thinking, and they hung in the air for a moment as Hermione blinked. 

Had he just propositioned her? 

More importantly, why was she wanting to answer with ‘yes’?

Exhaling the breath of air she’d been holding since Severus’s question, she decided instead on, “I suppose that depends on the quality of your patents. I’d have to see if they were worth my time for further inspection.”

Severus felt distinctly relieved. She _was_ tactful, this witch. Cunning, almost. It was a decidedly Slytherin response. Yet another reason to like her. _Damn._

“Have you heard of the Speculo Duo Charm?”

“That’s yours?” 

“Perhaps,” Severus replied slyly. 

“What else?”

“The Euphoria Elixir,” Severus said smoothly, knowing it would likely shock her. 

“I had no idea you were interested in such… visceral endeavours.”

“You’ll find I can be a passionate man, when properly inspired.”

“Is that so?” Hermione answered, failing to stop the blush that crept up her cheeks. _Oh dear, I really have had too much wine,_ she thought. 

“It is, indeed,” replied Severus, his raven eyes filled with lust, and he took a sip of his wine, letting the glass rest longer than normal against his curving lips. “Tell me, Hermione, do you have any secret passions?”

“Oh, I have several,” she replied with hooded eyes. “But they are rather… private… passions. You would need to get to know me better before I’d let you discover them.”

“Would you let me get to know you better?”

“I might,” Hermione answered, her eyes glittering mischievously. “Let’s see how dessert goes, shall we?” 

“I expect it will be quite sweet,” answered Severus with a hungry smile.

* * *

It had been a long time since Hermione had flirted with anyone, but she didn’t think she was doing too badly.

She twirled her finger in the cream atop her tiramisu, then placed it sensually in her mouth. She watched the smile on Severus’s face broaden. A boot-clad foot made its way to her side of the table, nudging against the toe of her heels. Shocking herself, she did not pull away, but instead inched her foot forward, drawing it up Severus’s lower leg, even as her mind screamed at her that she was playing footsie with her ex-professor who, until a couple hours ago, she thought she wanted nothing to do with. 

“Well, that was delicious,” she said when when she finished scraping her bowl. “In fact, the whole meal was better than I expected. I’m a little sad it has to end.”

Severus frowned. He had no intention of letting Hermione go home alone. He’d had a raging hard-on since her foot had crawled up his leg, and he was fairly sure if he could slip his hands into Hermione’s knickers, he’d find them wet. 

“Would you be interested in returning to my home?” he asked, running a finger along the edge of his coffee cup. “You could peruse my… patents.” 

“Oh, yes,” answered Hermione without pause. “I’d very much like to see your… _patents_.”

Both realising what they had just agreed to, the conversation halted. A blush crawled up Hermione’s cheeks as she imagined snogging Severus and ripping off his clothes. Severus’s eyes were dark with lust, a predatory smile on his lips, thinking of what he would do with the witch once he got her out of her little black dress. 

“I’ll just get the bill then,” he said in a growl. 

“Oh, I don’t mind paying for my share,” said Hermione, pulling her purse from the back of her chair.

“Nonsense. You can get the next one, if you must.”

“Oh, there’s going to be a next one, is there?” Hermione asked coyly.

Severus smirked. “I suppose it depends on how much you enjoy my patents.”

* * *

Bill paid for, Severus led Hermione from the restaurant. They walked in silence to a nearby street that ran along the backs of the shops. No Muggles in sight, Severus guided her into the alcove a doorway with a hand placed lightly at her back, which sent shivers up her spine. 

“A single Apparition to my house,” said Severus, raising his arm towards her in indication that she should take it. Hermione placed a small hand over the soft fabric of Severus’s jacket, giving it a light squeeze.

A soft pop, a spin, and they had landed in an alleyway between two low brick buildings. Hermione looked around, her heart pounding in her chest, and not from the travel. 

“My house is just around the corner,” said Severus, and to her surprise, tucked her arm in his before leading her out of the alley. 

His was a low house at the end of the row, its bricked front indistinguishable from the rest except for a curving, s-shaped knocker on the door. A tap of his wand had it open, and then they were inside, Hermione handing Severus her coat and bag, which were hung on a wooden coat rack next to the door.

Feet free from her shoes, she walked into the middle of the room, which was small and lined with shelves stuffed to bursting with books. At another time, she would have been transfixed on the tomes, but tonight she had other priorities, the primary one to get rid of the dull ache that had formed between her thighs.

She turned to find Severus staring at her with unhidden lust. 

“My patents are in the study,” he rumbled lowly.

“I’d really rather see your bedroom,” Hermione answered, brushing a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear. 

“My bedroom?” Severus asked in a velvet tone that sent Hermione’s nerves alight. He took a step towards her, so only a few feet separated their bodies. He knew exactly what she wanted—what he wanted—but couldn't help but tease. “And what, pray tell, do you believe to be in my bedroom of more interest than my patents?”

Hermione grinned wickedly, closing the gap between them and hesitantly placing her hands on Severus’s chest. She never realised how tall he was; the top of her head barely came to his shoulders. Her fingers played with the collar of his jacket. 

“I think I could find something,” she whispered softly, eyes staring up at his soft, curving lips. “Like perhaps you, naked and under me, while I ride your cock.”

“Ah yes, I forgot one could find that in my bedroom,” drawled Severus, his hands coming to rest on her hips. A soft squeeze of her flesh made her body roll forward, and she felt the proof of his arousal pressing into her stomach.

“Would you like to be reminded?” she asked huskily, her breath coming in rapid puffs. 

“Very much,” Severus growled, and then he captured her lips with his own, unable to tease any longer. 

Fireworks went off in Hermione’s brain, and she parted her mouth eagerly, no longer caring how she got here, or that Severus was her grumpy ex-professor. Right now he was just a man—a man she very much wanted to shag. Her tongue quickly pressed itself into his mouth, a guttural moan escaping Severus’s throat. 

His hands dropped to her buttocks, pulling her against him. Inside, his primal beast was growing, and he knew he needed to get her to his bed before the animal broke loose and shagged her on his sitting room floor.

“Shall we move this to the bedroom?” he asked gruffly.

“A wonderful idea.”

With some reluctance Severus pulled away from her, and led her through the hidden door and upstairs. 

His bedroom was sparsely furnished, with a large oak bed draped in modest off-white sheets and an armoire in the corner to hold his clothing. Hermione noticed several tomes stacked on a bedside table, but decided she could find out exactly what he was reading after the sex.

“Would you like to get right to the cock riding, or do you have an interest in foreplay?” Severus purred from behind her, lighting the candles with his wand.

Hermione turned around to find he had already shed his jacket, and wasted no time in pressing herself against him. 

“I think we should focus on getting naked first,” she spoke softly, her fingers coming to his collar, where she began popping buttons through their holes. 

When his shirt was open, she ran her palms over the planes of his chest and stomach while she kissed him again, before pushing the soft linen from his arms.

Pulling away, she unzipped her dress, letting it fall over her hips and pool around her ankles. She took a moment to admire his bare torso; he wasn’t hairy, thank goodness, though a trail of black down ran from his bellybutton and disappeared beneath his trousers. Overall he had a lean, wiry build; she liked it.

Severus let her stare, his own gaze fastened on her body, now dressed in only a matching set of black lingerie. She had shapely legs, ample hips, decent sized breasts, and a slightly rounded stomach; he liked it.

He took a step towards her, and she kissed him again. This time, her hands came to his belt, which she unbuckled deftly, letting it hang from the belt loops as she undid the placket of his trousers. 

Severus groaned as her hand covered his erection through his boxers, his hands gripping tightly at her hips. Hermione grinned against his lips, squeezing her hand more tightly around him. 

Deciding she did, in fact, desire some foreplay, she began kissing down his narrow chest until she found the trail that led to the part of him she wanted most at this moment. Fingers hooked over his pants and boxers combined with a sharp tug downwards, and it was free. Hermione wasted no time in taking his thick cock in hand and swirling her tongue around its mushroom-shaped tip, enjoying the hiss of pleasure from above her. 

“Fuck, witch,” Severus gasped as she placed his cock in her mouth. It felt warm and wet and wonderful. He watched her with dark eyes as she began to bob over his erection, her eyes shut in concentration, and he couldn’t help but place a hand on her head to assist, groaning quietly. 

“Merlin, that feels good,” he whispered to her, delighted when she moaned in response. He couldn’t remember the last time a witch had willingly given him a blowjob. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, enjoying the sensations of Hermione’s mouth plunging over his cock. His fingers pressed more firmly into her curls. 

For a moment his cock was outside of her, and then she was licking the length of his shaft, her hand pumping at the base, and then she took him inside her mouth again, moving faster than before. Each time he would hiss or groan, she gave a pleased-sounding moan. 

Severus would never have guessed that Hermione Granger enjoyed sucking cock—or that she was so exquisitely good at it. 

“Fucking hell…” he gasped as she took him deeper, the top of his cock brushing against the entrance to her throat. His balls clenched, the warmth of his release brewing deep within them. 

“I’m going to come, Hermione,” he gasped, clenching his fingers into her hair. His hips moved involuntarily, and she hummed again and picked up her pace.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck… OH!” 

Hermione felt Severus’s come hit the back of her mouth, and she gladly sucked it down. She suckled him until he began to soften, enjoying the way he’d begun stroking her head with both hands.

When she finally pulled away, she had a smile on her lips. There was no question that Severus liked that. 

He looked stunned as she rose to standing once more, his mouth slack and his eyes blinking slowly. She slipped out of her bra and knickers, and then bounced on to his bed. She lay back on his pillows, arms crossed above her head, one leg crooked upwards, her breasts pushed out proudly. Severus’s eyelids drooped, hungry once more.

“Oh, you minx,” he purred, jumping onto the bed and wasting no time in positioning himself between her thighs. She parted her legs for him, exposing her pink, wet cunt. Severus bit her thigh, and she moaned, arching upwards. 

No, Severus never would have expected before this evening that Hermione Granger would be the sexiest woman he’d ever met.

* * *

Hermione never would have guessed that Severus Snape was capable of giving her eight orgasms before he’d even managed to fuck her properly. 

His tongue and fingers rubbed, and sucked, and circled, and pressed, and licked, and nipped, and caressed her until she felt like a being of pure pleasure, her body surrendering to the blooming ecstasy Severus created. 

She felt cool air for a moment as Severus pulled away from her, and then gasped as she felt his cock pressing inside her. Her eyes flew open, her hips rolling back to greet him.

“Oh, Merlin, Severus,” she groaned as he slid himself inside her to the hilt. His large cock filled her deliciously, and she moaned loudly when he began to sway his hips against her.

An hour later, and Hermione was finally on top of him as she had promised. Severus held her hips, pressing her down against him as his hips rocked upwards into her. Hermione was lost to the pleasure of him inside her, his thick tool pressing in all the right places. Her breasts heaved and swayed as she moved over him, her head thrown backwards in bliss, her hands against his firm stomach. 

Severus watched her ride him, the most exquisite and passionate being he’d ever seen. When he felt her climax overtop of him, her body shuddering and a deep, keening moan escaping her throat, he rolled her onto her hands and knees, plunging himself inside her again.

“Yessss,” she gasped as he picked up his pace. Gods, he felt so good, and she wanted more. “Severus…” she whimpered.

“Tell me what you want,” Severus growled.

“More, Severus. Fuck me harder, please…”

Severus could only oblige and snapped his hips roughly. Each thrust elicited a soft moan or whimper, his cock pounding into her from behind. His fingers dug into her flesh. Her back arched against him, her wild hair loose and spraying over her shoulders. Her slick pussy throbbed over his shaft, his balls soaked with her juices. 

“You like being fucked hard, don’t you, witch?” snarled Severus, plunging into her more forcefully. 

“Yes!” Hermione shrieked as his cock crashed into her cervix. 

“Do you love my cock ramming you deep?”

“Yes!”

“Tell me.”

“I love your cock ramming me,” Hermione babbled, an orgasm overwhelming her senses as he continued to thrust into her. “Yes! Oh fuck, I fucking love your cock. Don’t stop, Severus.”

“Yes… you feel so good, Hermione,” Severus said, slowing down to languid strokes that made her whimper. 

He teased her, and rammed her, and pulled orgasm after orgasm from her cunt until she was boneless again and her head and arms were pressed into the pillows. Finally, Severus felt the fiery whorl that told him his climax was close, and he picked up the pace for the final time, pounding her like a piston until he shot his semen deep inside her. 

When Severus had gone soft, he slipped himself from her hold, still holding her hips. Panting, he grinned at the sight of his come dripping over her labia. Satisfied, he let her body fall limply on the mattress, and he collapsed beside her. 

Her face was pointed towards him, her eyes shut, her breath still coming hard and fast. He pushed a few loose strands of hair from her eyes, and she hummed contentedly. 

Severus managed to wriggle the covers from under her, and pulled them over them both. Hermione’s eyes drifted open lazily, her mind chugging to life slowly.

_The best,_ she thought… _the fucking best sex I’ve ever had. Good Merlin, we better be doing that again soon._

She rolled over onto her side, one arm under her head, the other resting in front of her on the mattress. She was pretty sure it was too soon to cuddle, but she was pleased when Severus’s fingers began caressing the back of her hand. His eyes were dark and full of wonder. 

“You know, Severus, you didn’t exactly stick to your word,” said Hermione with a soft grin, her eyes glittering with gold flecks in the soft candlelight. 

“How is that, exactly?” Severus asked quietly, his fingers stroking from her hand up her arm and back again. She moved a few inches closer to him. 

“Well, I distinctly remember you saying you weren’t going to court me this evening.”

Severus snorted, then leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. His fingers curled over her hand, squeezing. He pulled away, leaving his head a few inches from her on the pillow, feeling oddly comfortable with the closeness. “Well, this wasn’t exactly on purpose,” he spoke. “Fortunately, you were nothing like I expected.”

“What about your case of Ogden’s?” 

“Well, it took our dear friends two months to tell us about their relationship. I think turnabout is fair play, don’t you?” he said with a soft smirk. “May I take you to dinner again? I’ll court you properly, if you like.”

Hermione smiled. Oh yes, she liked _this_ Severus very much. “Oh yes, you most certainly may.”


End file.
